Say Refrigerator
by CyborgWithGreatHair
Summary: An unexpected reaction to th newest arrival at Rangeman has Steph voicing her concerns to Ranger.
1. Chapter 1

_This story idea came to me at choir rehearsal yesterday while I was watching my bestie's reaction to the token baby who has been coming along with his parents his whole life._

 **Say "Refrigerator"**

I stared down at the sleeping form in the crib before me, still so tiny, despite having grown out of the first clothes we bought for her. She was my world. She was amazing. She was, well, all things considered, she was just like her father. Matilda Marie Manoso had Rangers dark brown eyes and straight hair, her complexion was closer to his than mine, and she appeared to have the same sleep disorder. The slightest noise and she was awake, alert and ready for whatever was coming. And sleeping past sunrise? Please. Like that as going to happen.

I shook my head, wondering how much this Mini Ranger was going to rule my life when Ranger Original appeared in the doorway.

Turning away from Tilly, I held a finger to my lips, indicating that if we wanted her to sleep for longer than five minutes we had to be absolutely silent. He nodded his agreement, and wrapped an arm around my waist, leading me through the house to the kitchen, as far away from the nursery as we were able to get without leaving the house.

As soon as we were out of the hallway, he pressed me back until my ass hit the edge of the counter, covering my mouth with his own. A single, desperate moan burbled up from my throat and I was wrapping myself around him, digging my fingers through his hair until the leather tie holding it in place was dislodged and I was free to grab whole handfuls of it in an attempt to drag him closer.

"I've been waiting to do that since I woke up this morning," Ranger informed me, trailing open mouthed kisses down my throat.

"I've been waiting to do that since you left two days ago," I replied, surprised at how steady my voice was.

"That too," he agreed. He pulled back, swept my rampant curls away from my face before shoving his own loose locks away as well. "We should eat while we have the opportunity," he announced, stepping away but keeping one hand on my hip to make sure I didn't slide to the floor as was my custom. "How's Tilly been?"

"I'm worried," I said, not really thinking about what he'd actually asked before I said it, which is probably why he was suddenly back in my personal space, a concerned expression crossing his features as he glanced toward the hall that lead to our daughter's room. I took a moment to process his reaction and replay his question before shaking my head. I raised my hands to frame his face, making sure I had his full attention. "Tilly is fine," I assured him. "I'm worried about Tank."

Confusion passed swiftly across my husband's face. "I asked about our daughter and you tell me you're worried about my second in command?" he asked incredulously. I can't say I blamed him. These last three days had been my first time managing Tilly on my own without him there as a fail safe. I'd grown a lot more adept at identifying and dealing with her needs in the last three months, but I was still apprehensive about going it alone. Ranger had offered to have Ella or his mother stay with me while he was away, but I'd insisted I'd be okay. Hopefully. The sooner I got used to the easier it would be, right? And besides, it wasn't like he would be in the wind, he was just in DC, consulting. If I had any real emergencies I could call him and he would be home in a few hours.

"It's related," I explained.

Ranger raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

"Is Tank okay with... The current state of things?" I asked hesitantly. The last thing I wanted was to open up a can that had been dealt with and sealed off without my knowing. Tank had been nothing but supportive for as long as I'd known him, but lately, things had been off. It made me wonder.

"State of what?" Ranger asked, pulling a covered dish from the refrigerator where I'd stashed it after arriving home. Ella still liked to make sure we were fed, even though we weren't living on the seventh floor anymore.

"Us," I said, gesturing between us as he started the reheat process detailed on the lid. "You and me. And Tilly."

Ranger straightened from the oven and just stared at me like I was crazy. "Of course he's fine with it," he assured me. "Why wouldn't he?"

I shrugged. "Just the way he's been acting lately," I said.

"Babe," Ranger breathed, crossing the kitchen so he was once again directly in front of me. "Tank was the one who pushed me to man up and admit my feelings to you," he explained. "He was the best man at our wedding. Where is this coming from?"

I sighed. He was right. Tank had always been supportive of our relationship as much has he had my safety. The problem was, now, it was like he didn't want to be anywhere near me. Or Tilly, for that matter. I said as much to Ranger.

"What makes you think that?" he asked.

Hopping up onto the counter, I explained, " I was at Rangeman today, just checking in and saying hi. Allowing Tilly time with her uncles and vice versa." Even though I didn't work at Rangeman full time anymore, since we wanted Tilly to have as normal a life as possible, and spending her formative years in an office surrounded by men with guns did seem to fit that bill, I dropped by once or twice a week with the Rangebaby, as they had all dubbed her, and let them bond. Usually, these were just social visits. I did work one day a week, but Tilly didn't accompany me. She either went to my parents or Rangers, alternating weeks so no one felt left out.

"Sounds standard," Ranger nodded, encouraging me to continue. He still didn't understand how my concerns over Tank had cropped up.

"Well, I was in the break room, chatting with Bobby, Lester and Tank when Hal came in and asked for my help with a search he was running. I told him I'd be there in a minute-"

"Babe," he admonished, and I knew in an instant that I would be paid for my time this morning.

"And went to hand Tilly to Tank, because he was the only one who hadn't had a hug yet, but Tank just stepped back out of reach, stuffing his hands in his pockets." I shook my head, recalling the moment vividly. "I didn't have much time to think about it at that point, since Lester snatched the child from my grips and shooed me away to help Hal, but once I got home after lunch I started thinking about it. And in all of Tilly's very short life, I couldn't recall Tank ever holding or even touching her. I'd sifted through the myriad of photos we had and not one captured the pair together. In fact, in some of the photos he's almost scowling at her." Lifting my gaze to Rangers once more, I tried to blink away the tears. "Ranger, does Tank had Tilly?"

"Of course not," ranger assured me, stepping between my knees so he could gather me to his chest. "First of all, that scowl is Tanks natural expression. He has a resting bitch face. And second, Tank adores Tilly. He has a recording of her baby babble saved on his phone and has pictures of her on his mantle at home."

"Then why does he avoid her like the plague?" I questioned hopelessly.

Now it was Ranger's turn to sigh. "Tank's a big guy, Babe. He knows how much strength he has, but sometimes he forgets and accidentally hurts someone. He's always been careful around small children and injured people. I thought you would have noticed, since he's the only one that never hugs you to make sure you're all right after an ordeal? He doesn't want to hurt you any worse than you already are."

Well that explained complete lack of physical contact following Tilly's birth. He was afraid I was still sore and didn't want to aggravate any unseen injuries. It wasn't until I'd been cleared for physical activity and returned to the gym twice a week that he'd randomly pulled me into a bear hug as I passed him. I didn't have Tilly with me at the time though.

"So Tank doesn't want to hold Tilly because he's afraid he'll break her?"

Ranger nodded.

"He knows babies are built to withstand new parents, right? They're incredibly resilient." This was exactly what Rang had told me when I'd been having a panic attack a week before my due date, thinking I was going to be the worst mother in the world.

"I've told him, Babe. But he's set in his ways. When Julie was born and I was telling him about this little bundle that looked just like me he just shook his head and informed me that he didn't do children. 'Not until they can say refrigerator', he said."

"Refrigerator?" I questioned, stunned. It seemed a little random.

Ranger shrugged. "I guess he figured if they can say refrigerator they're old enough to tell him if he's hurting them." He eyed me a moment, and I must have had a determined look on my face because he stepped back, his hands on my knees. "You're going to make it your mission to get Tilly to say Refrigerator, aren't you?"

I rolled my eyes, "Did you really think this was going to go any other way?"

He chuckled, squeezing my thigh and moving to check on dinner. "Just don't use it so much that she thinks it's her name," he warned.

 ** _Stay tuned for a bonus scene!_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Heres the bonus scene as promised. Now I need to get back to reading so that I don't get in the dog house with my mum and bestie who are waiting for me to finish the book so that they can...**_

 **Say Refrigerator - Bonus**

Lester sat on the sofa in the break room watching Tilly sleep out of the corner of his eye as he read through a file. Steph had left her under his watch while she ducked upstairs for a quick shower. It seemed Tilly hadn't been too interested in keeping her food down and decided it would look much better on her mother. Steph had handled the situation with ease, wiping the worst of it off and patiently rocking the sweet child to sleep before even thinking about cleaning herself properly. Lester supposed her ability to deal with the vomit all over her came from years of practice rolling in garbage and then not being able to shower straight away as she took care of her target.

There was a crash from the kitchenette area behind him, and he had enough time to throw a glare over his shoulder at the culprit before Matilda was crying. Loudly. Lester sighed, more because he knew how important sleep was for the poor girl than because it was a trial to pick her up and cuddle her. He'd do anything for his niece. Scooping her up, he held her to his shoulder, rocking and bouncing slightly as he murmured soothingly to her.

"Hey," he whispered. "Hey now. It's okay little M&M, shhh, you're okay. Bobby just doesn't know how to be quiet. Shhhh."

The medic in question made an apologetic face as he straightened from picking up the pile of plates he'd knocked to t floor. "Sorry man, I didn't see her," he explained. "And I certainly didn't mean to send the plates flying."

Lester shrugged. "Do you think we can forgive Uncle Bobby?" Lester asked the baby. "It's not his fault he's a clutz." Tilly wouldn't stop crying, though. "You're right," Lester agreed. "A medic should have better hand eye coordination. Maybe he can make it up to you by getting the rest of your bottle out of the refrigerator."

Bobby nodded his understanding, used to the way men seemed to hold conversations with Tilly rather than continuing the conversation as they normally would.

"I think it's on the top shelf of the refrigerator," Lester continued. "But mommy might have put it in the door of the refrigerator next to the water."

Bobby sent him a weird look around the door of the fridge.

"Stopp stalling with the refrigerator door open, Uncle Bobby," Lester admonished, grinning eventhough Tilly was still wailing in his ear.

"Dude, what's with the repeats of refrigerator?" Bobby asked as he shoved the bottle into a canister of hot water to warm up.

"Steph didn't tell you?" Lester asked, abandoning all pretences of talking to the little girl in his arms.

"Tell me what?"

"Apparently Tank doesn't do kids until they can say Refrigerator-" he turned his head to the side so the word was murmured soothingly beside Tilly's ear. "So she's determined to have Tilly say refrigerator-" again, he turned his head to direct the word to the baby. "As soon as humanly possible. She thinks by using it repeatedly she can encourage Tilly to say it as one of her first words."

Bobby shook his head, testing the temperature of the bottle. "That's a ridiculous notion," he said.

"But you have to admit,"Lester pointed out. "Getting one up on the big man is totally worth it."

The pair grinned at each other as Tilly finally started to calm down. "You're right," Bobby agreed. "Do you want me to get you a water from the refrigerator while I'm over here?"

"I'd love a water from the refrigerator," Lester confirmed. This was going to be the longest prep for a prank in the history of Rangeman, but totally worth it. "Maybe we should let all the guys know that there's cold water in the refrigerator."

 _ **So there may be one more scene to this... We'll have to wait and see.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_So, I should probably mention that Tank's view on children - the thing about being able to say refrigerator - that's my bestie's exact view on children. She says it often. It's actually quite funny. She's been around my nieces (1 and 3) on occasion and it just ends up as a stared down. They don't know what to make of her, and vice versa. I haven't actually checked to see if the three year old can say refrigerator yet, but considering she was saying strawberry quite clearly at one and a half, I'd say it's not a stretch._

 **Chapter 3**

Tank sat at his desk, staring blankly at the screen of his computer. He was exhausted. With Ranger away consulting every other week – or at least that's how it felt – a lot of the day to day running of the company had fallen to the big guy. That meant rosters and pay rolls and budgets and keeping everyone else's asses in line. It also meant stress. The kind that kept a large muscular man up at night. He hadn't had a decent night sleep in what felt like a month. He wondered briefly, glancing over at the small photo of his niece he'd blue-tacked to the computer tower, if this was how new parents felt.

Minimising the window of the roster he'd been working on, he opened up the file folder sitting on the corner of the desk and proceeded to stare blankly at that for a while until he heard the tell-tale sound of little feet pattering down the hallway. He hadn't had much to do with Tilly over her first year of life. He'd been there for all the major milestones, but on the sidelines. He wasn't the one hugging, carrying, or soothing the girl. He was there, and she wasn't afraid of him. That was all he really asked at this stage. She'd obviously learned that he wasn't going to pick her up, because she never asked like she did of the other men, raising her hands when she wanted "up-py." She did always seek him out when she came to visit though. Usually to give him a taste of whatever treat Steph had given her that day.

He'd closed the file again and pushed his chair back by the time Matilda Manoso's pig-tailed head poked around the edge of the door he'd left open.

"Un-Tak?" she called quietly.

"Tilly-Girl?" he called back, leaning around the desk to peer at her.

"Un-Tak!" she exclaimed, doing a little happy dance when she spotted him, which promptly landed her on her diapered ass. She was still mastering the use of her legs in the upright position, but according to popular opinion she was quite advanced for her age between that and her speech development.

"What have you got today?" Tank asked the toddler as she returned to her feet and made her way across the large office. In reply Tilly held up a baggy of grapes that had been cut in half length ways. "Oh grapes," he said, supplying the word for her.

"Gapes," she repeated, grinning and nodding.

Tilly stopped a couple of feet away from where he sat, wobbling as the loss of inertia almost caused another topple to the floor. "Can I have one?" he asked, leaning forward so that he was at a better level for communicating with the one year old.

She nodded enthusiastically and picked a half grape out of the bag, holding it out to the big man. "Ahhh," she prompted.

"Ahhh," Tank replied, holding his mouth open until Tilly had deposited the piece of fruit in his mouth, then chewing with vigour to show his appreciation.

Tilly did another little dance, excited over feeding her Uncle. She reached up on tippy toes and put her baggy of grapes on the edge of the desk and moved closer to Tank's chair. One pudgy hand was laid on Tank's knee, grabbing his attention, even though she already had it. "Bopple?" she asked plaintively. "Fidge-ator?"

Blinking, Tank had to pause, replaying the child's words in his head. Had he heard that correctly? She'd asked for a bottle in his presence on numerous occasions, so that was no surprise. But her other word. Could that have been? Had his persistence finally paid off? Every time he had a moment alone with Tilly he'd repeat the word refrigerator for her in the hopes that she would repeat it back. She hadn't shown much interest in it, even when she repeated every other word anyone said – which made for a few interesting incidents when men lost control of their mouths. But he'd kept it up. One day she would say it and he would remove he would know she was old enough to be aware of herself and enough to tell him to stop if he hurt her.

Was today that day?

"What did you say?" he asked, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

She narrowed her eyes in response, looking just like her mother. "Bopple pwease?"

"Where's the bottle?" Tank prompted.

Tilly's mouth worked for a moment as if testing the word on her lips before saying it aloud. "Wa-fidge-a-wator?" she sounded out.

"Refridgerator?" Tank asked.

"Wa-fidge-ator," Tilly confirmed with a nod. "Bopple? Pwease?"

Tank grinned. Unable to stop himself, he scooped Tilly up into his arms, depositing her on his shoulders and spun around while she giggled before jogging out of the office and down the hall toward the break room where Steph and Ella kept watered down juice bottles ready to go for Tilly. As he emerged into the main command floor there was a collective cheer from everyone in the room. Tank paused, travelling his gaze over the men standing in small groups, peering over cubicle dividers, leaning out of doorways.

"What?" he said.

"Where are you going, M&M?" Lester asked from nearby, using his own affectionate name for Matilda.

Tilly laid her hands flat on Tank's bald head and announced loudly. "Bopple. Wa-fidge-ator."

"REFRIGERATOR!" the men cried in triumph.

Shaking his head, Tank continued on to the break room. He didn't know what was so exciting about the word refrigerator for _them_. And right then he didn't care. Besides, Tilly was using his skull as a drum kit, the sooner she got a bottle, the better.

Steph was leaning against fridge, when they entered, her arms crossed over her chest, a self-satisfied smile gracing her lips as she waved a bottle toward her daughter. "The hard work paid off," Steph said.

"What hard work?" Tank asked suspiciously, leaning down so Tilly could take the drink herself.

"Refrigerator," Steph replied easily.

Tank's eye narrowed. "Ranger told you? When?"

"About nine months ago," Steph shrugged. "We've been working on teaching Tilly to say it ever since."

The hairs rose on the back of Tank's neck and he recalled the men's reaction. "We?"

Steph nodded. "Me, and Ranger, and Lester, and Bobby, and Hal, and Cal, and Hector – although, he was teaching her a Spanish word, so it could have been anything – and everyone else in Rangeman. Oh! And Ranger's parents."

"You've all been teaching Tilly to say refrigerator just so I'd-"

"Pick her up," Steph confirmed. "Hug her like we've all known you wanted to since the day she was born."

Tank shook his head, and the child in question grabbed hold of his ear with her free hand to keep from falling, even though Tank had a secure hold of her hips.

"I can tell who the favourite is going to be from now on," Steph assured him, tilting her head as Tilly passed the bottle down to her mother and leaned against the back of Tank's head, in a half hug. She let out a wide yawn. "She's tired, hasn't had a nap. If you're not careful she'll fall asleep up there." Tilly had proven fussy when it came to sleep. She could sleep in any position, but refused to sleep if certain people were around. For example Mrs Helen Plum. It was like the kid had a sixth sense and knew she had to keep an eye on the woman. It was the same when it came to Lester if he was in a certain mood.

For some reason, Tank didn't think the idea of Tilly falling asleep on him sounded like such a bad idea. If that's where Tilly was comfortable, he would make sure not to disturb her. It was a compliment, really.

"Gapes?" Tilly asked quietly.

"Grapes," Tank confirmed, patting her leg. "Hold on tight." Her little hands gripped both his ears as he met Steph's gaze one more time. "I'll be in my office."

She smirked. "So will she."


End file.
